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Copyright, igio 

by 

MYRTLE REED McCULLOUGH 



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ICU2732l*6 






J. S. McC. 



The author desires to make acknowledgment for the 
courtesy of the editors of The Smart Set, The Cosmopolitan, 
Ainslee's Magazine, and The Associated Sunday Magazines, who 
have given their permission to reprint in this volume certain 
sonnets originally published in their several periodicals. 



M 



Contents 

PAGE 

Choice 2 

Confession 4 

Love's Blindness ^ 

The Storm 8 

The North Star lo 

An Old Love Song i2 

The Water of Forgetfulness ... 14 

Sunset on the Shore 16 

Violets 18 

Roses 20 

Where Sea and River Meet .... 22 

Dream River 24 

Outward Bound 26 

Waiting 28 

The Tide 30 

Your Roses 32 

[vii] 



PAGE 

Love*s Afternoon 34 

Star- Break ....... 36 

The Path , . 38 

The Lovelight . 40 

The House of Pain 42 

Forgiveness , . 44 

A Violin 46 

Weaving 48 

At Twilight 50 

The Last Journey 52 

Night 54 

A Lost April 56 

A Robin in the Rain 58 

Devotion 60 

Tokens ........ 62 

An Old Garden 64 

Lavender . . , 66 

Harvest 68 

The Vineyard 70 

Indian Summer 72 

[viii] 



PAGE 

Crowned 74 

The Last Time 76 

Aftermath 78 

Absence 80 

Winter 82 

Old Letters 84 

Death and Love 86 

Afterward 88 



[ix] 



Sonnete to a Xover 




Cboice 

HE eyes of one shall open on 

the mom 
Where sunrise fires stain 
white peaks afar, 
Another in the valley, where no star 
Breaks on the gloom, of sea and midnight 

born; 
And where the poppies riot through the 
corn 
The one, unshod, may pass with wound 

nor scar — 
The other's struggling hands no gates 
unbar; 
Thus one shall have the rose and one the 
thorn. 



w 



If I could choose and could not be denied, 
Thy way would lie in many a sunny field 
While through the night my thorny 
path would be; 
Forever in the dark would I abide 
And I would be thy solace and thy shield, 
If I could choose — if I could choose 
for thee! 



[3] 



Confession 




EAR, wouldst thou have me 

say how much I care, 
And send the scarlet flood into 
my cheek? 
Shall I forget my womanhood and 
speak? 
Before thee must my inmost self lie 

bare? 
I have no thought I would not have 
thee share. 
And yet my faltering words must prove 

too weak 
If I would give the knowledge thou 
dost seek 
Of love that is not passion, but a prayer. 



w 



Ah, chide me not, Heart's Dearest — let 
me feel 
Down deep within my soul the stead- 
fast trust 
That only those who truly love may 
know; 
Forgive me if my lips may not reveal 
The crimson roses hidden in my dust — 
I cannot speak because I love thee 
so! 



[5] 




Xove's Blinbness 

O fault in me? And wouldst 

thou have me take 
My lover's tender words and 
deem them true? 
What if my sight should find perfection, 
too, 
And thus another grievous error make? 
I would the dream were real for thy 
dear sake. 
Since with a greater gladness thou 

couldst woo 
Were I a goddess, not a woman who 
Must fear and tremble lest thou shouldst 
awake. 



[6] 



No fault in me? Dear Heart, it is thy 
love 
That with transfiguring mist has veiled 
thine eyes 
To make thy vision of me always 
kind; 
And so I pray, to Him enthroned above, 

That to thy height of beauty I may rise, 
Or else God keep thee still divinely 
blind. 



[7] 



Cbe Storm 




ILD winds that grow to 
fury scourge and lash 
The threatening sea that 
echoes back their cries; 
Before the storm a single sea-gull flies 
While whitening breaker legions meet 

and crash. 
The wind and tide in deadly battle clash, 
Where tattered surges in swift anger 

rise 
To thunder back the challenge that de- 
fies 
The darkened sky, torn by the lightning's 
flash. 



[8] 



I fear no storm, within thy sheltering 
arm, 
Nor yet the thronging thunders, nor the 
dark, 
Nor booming breakers through the 
midnight hurled; 
Thou art my Captain, shielding me from 
harm, 
And through the tempests thou wilt 
guide my bark 
Past all the rocks and dangers of 
the world. 



[9] 



^M 


1 



Zhc Bortb Star 

N realms of night, ere dawn 

and day began, 
Amid the vaulted dark this 
star was set, 
And shining with unchanging splendor 
yet 
It guides the faltering steps of wayworn 

man. 
Adrift at sea, the troubled pilots scan 
The stormy heavens and frowning 

clouds that let 
No single gleam of white or violet 
Upon the zenith's dark and threatening 
span. 



[10] 



And even as the storm-tossed sailor lifts 
Bewildered eyes to midnight's hollow 
sphere 
And guides his course by steady 
lights above, 
So through the darkness, broken into rifts, 
I never yet have failed to find thee. 
Dear, 
Nor have I lost the compass of thy 
love. 



["] 



Hn ©lb %ovc Song 




S if upon my heart-strings 

softly played 
By angel hands that touch 

the chords unseen, 



Through all the dead sweet years that 
lie between, 
There comes the music of a serenade. 
Of olden dreams the melody is made, 

Of violets that bloom amid the green; 

And like a benediction, calm, serene, 
A gentle peace upon my soul is laid. 



[12] 



And yet, forgive me if the hot tears start, 
When at the end the deep chords seem 
to pause 
And great arpeggios swell out clear 
and strong, 
For thou hast kept the sun within my 
heart 
And I must weep for very joy because 
Our years of love are mingled with 
the song. 



[13] 



i^^ft 



Zbe Matet of S^oroetfulness 

Y Stygian shores a sunless 

river flows, 
Through barren fields and 
desert wastes of sand; 
And on its marge strange, ghostly 
travellers stand 
To touch the sombre flood and find 

repose. 
One draught of Lethe and there comes 
to those 
Who journey to that undiscovered 

strand, 
A peace unknown upon this troubled 
land. 
Which slowly into marble calmness 
grows. 



[14] 



Some day I too, from thy dear arms 
withdrawn, 
On that last voyage sped by prayer 
and dirge. 
Shall stand with those who wait be- 
side the stream; 
But though beyond me lies immortal 
dawn, 
I take no cup of peace from that grim 
surge 
If thus my heart shall lose its earthly 
dream. 



[15] 



Sunset on tbe Shore 




HE last white banners of 

the fleeting day 
Had trailed along the sum- 
mit of the hill, 
And, as a maid to lover's kiss a-thrill, 
A crimson flush upon the waters lay ; 
Soft, tangled lights shone through the 
irised spray 
That gleamed afar with alien splen- 
dor, till 
The thronging sea-bird's plaintive 
notes were still, 
And sunset changed to shadow, then to 
gray. 



[16] 



But, out across the sea that moved so 
slow, 
As half asleep and dreaming of the 
clime 
Where yesterday these tides had 
laved the shore. 
There stole the tender light of after- 
glow — 
Like love that lingers for a little time, 
And leaves remembered sweetness 
evermore. 



[17] 




tDiolets 

HOLD thy violets against 
my face 
And deeply breathe the 
haunting, purple scent 
That fills my weary heart with sweet 
content 
And lays upon my soul a chrismal 

grace ; 
The air around me for a little space 
Is heavy with the fragrance they have 

lent, 
And every passing wind that heaven- 
ward went 
Has held thy blossoms in a close 
embrace. 



[i8] 



I think I love the violets best of all 
Because of that hushed sweetness, far 
and faint 
As star-dust through the darkness 
dimly sown; 
Forever do they hold my sense in thrall, 
My spirit kneels as to some imaged 
saint — 
For they — and thou — were made to 
be my own. 



[19] 



IRoses 




EEP dews of June upon 

thy roses lay, 
Of April rains and Summer 
sweetness wrought, 
And chaliced in the blossoms thou 
hast brought 
To give me pleasure for a fleeting day. 
Love's dearest, sweetest messengers are 
they, 
For, like a bee in satin petals caught. 
May hide an unsuspected tender 
thought 
That every opening flower must betray. 



[20] 



And haply, if sometimes I find surcease 
Of tears and sorrow in a lover's gift 
That with its clustered bloom my 
breast adorns, 
It is because thy love has brought me 
peace. 
And made through cloud and storm a 
starry rift — 
Because with roses thou hast hid 
my thorns. 



[21] 




Where Sea anb IRiver nDeet 

HE tide goes out, and in its 

peace serene 
The river dreams all through 
the afternoon, 
Or, turning drowsily, begins to croon 
A lullaby along its banks of green; 
And then, through rising mist but dimly 
seen. 
There gleams a silvered star and 

crescent moon. 
The great deep faintly chanting prayer 
and rune 
Across the stretch of sand that lies 
between. 



[22] 



The tide comes in, and with the 
passioned flow, 
The river's heart goes out to find the 
sea. 
Its utmost waters moving toward 
the sun; 
And so, together, Life and Love must 
go- 
Where sea and river meet, thy love 
for me 
And mine for thee must rise and be 
as one. 



[23] 



Bream IRiver 




LONG the Fields of Sleep 

the river strays 
Where in the sun the golden 
water glows 
As with a drowsy melody it flows 
Through woodland aisles and scented 

forest ways; 
And like the dew a Summer morning 
lays 
Upon the petals of an opening rose, 
The mist-veiled eyes of tired dreamers 
close 
With soft enchantment resting on their 
gaze. 



[24] 



Amid the clover where the wild bees 
hum 
And passing silver sunbeams gently 
sift 
Their garnered treasure into meadow 
grass, 
I wait, my dearest, till God lets thee 
come — 
Until adown Dream River we may 
drift 
And gather slumber lilies as we pass. 



[25] 



©utwatb Bounb 




HEN on the unknown deep 

there comes a sail, 
Outlined in shadow on the 
darkened sea, 
When far beyond the Captain calls to 
me. 
And I alone can hear his searching hail ; 
Why should I fear to pass beyond the 
pale 
And say a long farewell to love and 

thee, 
When, set on whitening lips so ten- 
derly, 
Thy lover's kiss no longer may avail? 



[26] 



When all is done, I have no fear nor 
dread, 
So when the Captain calls me, speak 
me fair 
And hold my hand a moment in 
thine own; 
For I should love thee still though I 
were dead. 
And past the waste of waters find thee 
there — 
Sweetheart! I know I cannot die 
alone ! 



[27] 



Maitino 




OMETIMES, when sunset 

skies are overcast, 
And I have lived my day as 
best I know, 
I fall to dreaming, and remember so 
The golden hours that shimmered as 

they passed. 
Sometimes, when tired eyes are filling 
fast, 
I hear thy footfalls near me, hushed 

and slow; 
I feel thy kiss upon my hand and 
grow 
Toward the calm of perfect peace at 
last. 



[28] 



Sometimes my lonely soul cries out for 
thee, 
My hungry heart pleads for thee, deep 
within. 
Then once again I hear thy dear 
voice call; 
Ah, Sweetheart, say that in Eternity 
God gives us back these long-lost 
years, and in 
A blinding instant we shall find them 
all. 



[29] 




XTbe Zibc 

AR out at sea the whitening 

waves grow dim 
And in a filmy cloud the 
veiled stars hide; 
The wind has risen on the waters 
wide 
And brought the breakers to the very 

brim. 
But yonder, by the dark cloud's shining 
rim, 
She moves in beauty, and the restless 

tide 
Will pulse around the earth as she 
may guide 
And chant the stately measures of a 
hymn. 



[30] 



But, ere her gentle radiance shall fade, 
The stormy, passioned surge will wait 
at flood. 
Its longing music hushed to softest 
croon ; 
And like the tide thy wish have I 
obeyed 
With answer in my heart and in my 
blood — 
I love thee as the sea hath loved 
the moon! 



[31] 



l^our IRoses 




OUR roses die; the fallen 

petals blow 
Across my room with every 
wandering breeze 
That stirs the drooping boughs of 
yonder trees 
And makes faint music on the shore 

below ; 
So still it is, a rose itself might go 

Star-like, amid the night's dim mys- 
teries. 
And, keeping shadowy tryst with one 
of these. 
Breathe crimson fragrance to a rose of 
snow. 



[32] 



Your roses die — the petals fade and fall ; 
The late moon lies upon bare hearts 
of gold 
And even these, to-morrow, will be 
gone; 
But yet, to-morrow, when my heart 
shall call, 
How yours will leap to answer as of 
old! 
Your roses die, but oh, your love 
lives on! 



[33] 




Xove'8 Hftetnoon 

HE sunset radiance on far 

heights has lain 
And in hushed murmur flows 
the singing stream; 
Amid the maples Autumn splendors 
gleam, 
And shadows slowly creep upon the 

plain. 
Soft purple dusk lies on the fields of 
grain 
And whispered notes of drowsy robins 

seem 
Like distant echoes from the hills of 
dream, 
Or like the cadence of an April rain. 



[34] 



If Love, like dawn and morning, fades 
away. 
If only once there comes this thing 
sublime. 
If Love's sweet year holds but a 
single June — 
I will not ask from God another day, 
Nor plead for Spring again at harvest- 
time. 
But walk toward night with thee, 
through afternoon. 



[35] 




S if by magic sunset gates 

unbar 
And through the portals Day 
goes home to rest; 
The crimson clouds, massed in the 
golden west, 
Foundations of celestial cities are. 
The flaming beacons shed their light 
afar 
Till twilight comes upon the mountain 

crest ; 
Gray shadows deepen on Night's quiet 
breast, 
That bears the jewel of a single star. 



[36] 



Then out upon the meadows, strangely 
white, 
Where like a ghostly veil lies autumn 
mist. 
The thousand lights of heaven softly 
shine. 
Like this thy love has risen on my 
night, 
Thy arms around me keep a lover's 
tryst — 
Star-break and thee, and thy lips 
close on mine! 



[37] 



Zbc patb 




E know not where our hidden 

way may lie, 
What stress and storm the 
coming years may hold ; 
The midday heats and midnights drear 
and cold 
May meet us on our journey far or nigh — 
Yet step by step we go, till by-and-bye 
The mystic tapestries of Fate unfold; 
When weary past believing, gray and 
old, 
We reach the end together — thou and I. 



[38] 



On eyes grown dim the mists of blind- 
ness creep, 
The pulse moves slower still, and 
sorrows fade. 
But even then we may not under- 
stand ; 
Yet God still giveth His beloved sleep — 
Oh, Heart of Mine, why should we be 
afraid 
If only night may find us hand in 
hand! 



[39] 



XLhc Xoveliobt 




TRONG surges of the world 

around thee roll 
And high thy pulses burn at 
fever heat 
Amid the thousands in the city street 
Whose eyes are strained to see a distant 

goal. 
The human tide moves far past thy 
control 
And weary grow thy hastening, eager 

feet, 
When heavy-eyed despair has come 
to beat 
With sickening terrors on thy tired soul. 



[40] 



My soldier, no! I will not have thee 
fail! 
What though untoward Fate against 
thee seems 
And far afield has ever made thee 
roam? 
Thy steadfast courage must at last pre- 
vail, 
And through the lattice-lights my can- 
dle gleams 
To lead thee safely back to love 
and home. 



[41] 




Zbc Ibouse of pain 

AIN rears her castles where 

the mighty dwell 
And side by side with them 
the humblest kneel; 
The trembling hands that grope in 
darkness feel 
Unyielding walls around their prison- 
cell. 
She sits amid her rue and asphodel 
With sorrow on her distaff and her 

reel; 
Forever toiling at her loom and wheel 
With warp and woof she weaves her 
grievous spell. 



[42J 



And yet a captive, in torn garments 
clad, 
Who with uplifted face goes singing 
by 
Hath sometimes changed a bitter 
loss to gain; 
For God hath strangely mingled sweet 
with sad 
And in the thorns a hidden rose may 
lie, 
Since Love lives ever in the House 
of Pain. 



[43] 



jforGiveness 




EAR, why shouldst thou for 

my forgiveness plead 
And take the blame in 
knightly lover's way, 
When thou must know I could not 
tell thee nay, 
Since my unfailing pardon is thy meed? 
Of my mistakes thou hast not taken 
heed. 
But yet I fear thy clearer vision may 
Discern behind thy dream my faulty 
clay — 
Then of thy grace shall I have greater 
need. 



[44] 



Forgive thee, dearest? It were passing 
strange 
To grant thee pardon for a single 
fault 
When all of mine must balance 
with thy one; 
I have thy love, beyond the reach of 
change, 
Which all my erring future must 
exalt — 
And I forgive thee all thou hast not 
done. 



[45] 



H IDioUn 




ARK night and storm and 

passioned breakers' din, 
The sea-bird's note, the vast- 
ness of the tide 
And softest winds that through the 
forest sighed 
Are with this fibre strangely woven in. 
The organ tones of surge and sea begin 
Within this mystic temple, sanctified 
By all the vanished years that, ere 
they died, 
Had hid their sweetness in a violin. 



[46] 



Some day the buried music shall be 
found 
When master hands awake the sleeping 
voice 
To some great song that in crescendo 
rings ; 
And thus, as silence changed to rapturous 
sound, 
My wakened heart must evermore 
rejoice 
Because thy fingers touched the 
hidden strings. 



[47] 



Meavino 




SOMBRE web is laid upon 

my loom 
Where for a little space my 
hands must weave 



Whatever pattern passing Fate may 
leave 
Upon the threshold of my darkened 

room. 
No roses 'neath my trembling fingers 
bloom, 
Loose threads and errors I cannot 

retrieve, 
And ever with a sore despair I grieve. 
For stars have never broken on my 
gloom. 



[48] 



When at the last my tears have ceased 
to flow, 
When life tides wait forever at the ebb, 
And Master hands my tapestries 
unroll, 
From pleading lips the cry will come, I 
know: 
"Dear God, forgive! In that uneven 
web 
There lies enmeshed a loving 
woman's soul ! '* 



[49] 




HEN twilight creeps upon 

thy life and mine, 
And on the margin of the 
sea we stand, 
Will some forgotten light gleam on 
the sand, 
Or some lost star in shadow faintly 

shine ? 
Shall we find friendly beacons, or a sign 
To lead us safely to the unknown land 
That lies in far-off beauty, when my 
hand 
Slips softly for the last time into thine? 



[50] 



When twilight falls, and, hidden in our 
dust, 
No rose of youth our dimming eyes 
discern, 
When darkness comes upon us from 
above ; 
Shall we still have unstained our life- 
long trust? 
Dear God! Thy utmost lessons we 
will learn, 
And not complain — if we may keep 
our love! 



[51] 



^be Xast Journeig 




OME day the winding path 

that we have trod, 
Its changing puroose ever 
unrevealed, 
Will lead us safely to a sunny field 
Where white and crimson clover breaks 

the sod. 
Some day, when we have passed beneath 
the rod. 
Our harvest at the best a barren yield, 
The heartaches and the pain shall all 
be healed 
By that white peace which is the gift of 
God. 



[52] 



And yet a little longer I would wait, 
The while thy sands of life still slowly 
run, 
Until for thee the sunny fields unbar ; 
Yes, I will stand beside the meadow gate 
Till thy last journey, too, is almost 
done 
And on the clover faintly gleams a 
star. 



[53] 



Biobt 




DOWN the lane come flocks 

of weary sheep 
With muffled tinklings to 
the waiting fold; 
Dim grayness lies upon the sun's last 
gold, 
And timid stars into the shadow creep. 
A gracious darkness on the rocky steep 
Has fallen where the drowsy sheep- 
bells tolled, 
And far afield the drooping poppies 
hold 
Within their dusky petals softest sleep. 



[54] 



Twilight and hush, and then the mystic 
hours 
When Dian moves along her starry 
ways, 
From day-long bondage of the sun 
set free; 
My soul has opened as night-blooming 
flowers 
That fear the heat and splendor of the 

days — 
, Ah, Love, 't is night, and I am wait- 
ing thee! 



[55] 



a Xo8t april 




S this September? In a 

golden light 
The sudden rain has passed, 
and sparkling dew 
Is dripping from the trees, each drop 
pierced through 
With quivering sun-threads, shining sil- 
ver white. 
The thrush's note ascends in rapturous 
flight, 
And every meadow-lark that upward 

flew 
From clover fields at dawn is singing, 
too, 
As if there were no Autumn and no 
night. 



[56] 



Is this September? Nay, for on the 
earth 
In radiant beauty April treads again, 
And wooes the robins with her 
smiles and tears. 
And so, if dead Spring has another birth, 
We have not lost our love's first 
sweetness, then- 
It waits somewhere adown the aisle 
of years. 



[57] 



<! 



a IRobin in tbe IRain 

HE springtime rains have 

beaten on the trees 
And taken fragrant tribute 
from them all; 
Crushed apple-blossoms lie upon the 
wall 
Forsaken by the faithless honey-bees. 
The saddest of the vernal days are 
these — 
With every passing wind wet petals 

fall, 
The birds forget their tender mating 
call 
And sing no more their joyous melodies. 



[58] 



Nay, listen! Like the voice of silvered 
flute, 
In brave, sweet cadence ever rippling 
on, 
A hidden robin pipes his cheery 
strain ! 
Ah, Love ! Thy lips and mine are sadly 
mute 
When for the moment sun and hope 
are gone — 
We have not faith to sing amid the 
rain! 



[59] 




Bevotion 

(After Schumann) 

HOUGH I were blind, thy 

face I still should see 
As last upon thine eyes the 
lovelight lay; 
If trembling lips were mute that fain 
would pray, 
Though I were dumb, my heart would 

speak to thee; 
If snow and flame should seem alike to 
me, 
Thy touch would wake its answer in 

my clay, 
Though bound in silence, I should 
hear thee say: 
"I love thee, Sweet, for all eternity." 



[60] 



Thou art the star within my world of 
night, 
Thou art the music I have longed to 
hear, 
Thou art my loving speech, that 
softly stole 
Upon my lips as dawn upon the sight; 
Thou art my tenderness — my roses. 
Dear — 
I am a woman and thou art my 
soul. 



[6i] 




XTokens 

CRUSH the faded roses 
into dust 
Then cast their fragrant 
ashes on the air, 
A gift to secret winds that waft them 
where 
No eyes may mark fulfilment of the 

trust ; 
I hold the violets a moment, just 
To live once more the hour when they 

were fair; 
The yellowed letters lie beside them 
there, 
So sweet I cannot burn them — as I must ! 



[62] 



Yet, after all, I count the tokens naught 
Since in thy heart the roses grow for 
me 
And every violet brings me the 
whole 
Of thy great tenderness and loving 
thought — 
Like some illumined missal, words 
from thee 
Are lettered on the pages of my 
soul. 



[63] 



Hn ©lb 6arben 




LONG the wall the length- 
ening shadows creep 

And questing honey bees 
have homeward flown 



O'er meadow grass and weeds now 
overgrown 
Upon the crimson clover lying deep. 
Strange sentinels the larkspur's watches 
keep 
And drowsily the thistledown is blown ; 
White morning-glories vagrant blooms 
have sown 
Where that forgotten garden lies asleep. 



[64] 



Far down the path, beside the broken 
gate, 
In seeming portent stands a cypress 
tree; 
And royal, lonely, like a thing apart, 
A single golden rose has challenged 
Fate. 
Thus at the last may it be given me 
To sleep with thy dead roses on my 
heart. 



[65] 



Xavenbet 




HE memory of old gardens 

gently clings 
Around these broken flowers, 
now gray and dead, 
While childish dreams and visions 
long since fled. 
Come back once more on swift and 

kindly wings. 
Again the meadow-lark at sunrise sings, 
And fairy webs all through the wood- 
land spread, 
With drops of crystal strung on every 
thread, 
Bring back the sweetness of forgotten 
Springs. 



[66] 



The lavender is dead, yet 't is not death, 
For stores of snowy linen, finely spun. 
Shall hold its subtle fragrance 
through the year. 
And so, as linen scented by its breath, 
In all my life must be a little sun 
Because I know that thou hast loved 
me, Dear! 



[67] 



1 


i 



Ibarvest 

HE slanting beams of after- 
noon have traced, 
Where slender shafts of 
ripening grain unfold, 
A mystic pattern wrought of palest 
gold, 
With blood-red poppies closely inter- 
laced. 
And so the distant harvest-fields are 
graced 
With drifted blooms that wander 

uncontrolled. 
And when night's dusky fabrics are 
unrolled, 
In every chaliced cup a pearl is placed. 



[68] 



So when my doubtful harvest shall 
begin, 
With such small store of grain as 
chaff can yield, 
And I have naught to give that may 
atone, 
I know the Reaper, searching far within, 
Will grant me pardon for my barren 
field 
Because thy poppies in my wheat 
have grown. 



[69] 




PON the hill beyond the 

grove of pine 
All through the vineyard 
tiny tendrils run, 
Where, marked with fleeting shadow 
and with sun. 
The shimmering leaves and fragrant 

creepers twine; 
September here has made her sparkling 
wine 
And, in the silences of night begun. 
The fairy spinners mystic lace have 
spun 
Around the clustered purple of the vine. 



[70] 



So through the world's vast vineyard 
thou and I 
Are pledged to travel onward side by 
side 
And walk upon the way that He has 
willed. 
Though saddest failure in our cups may 
lie 
When we have trod the grapes, He 
will not chide, 
Because with love our wine has 
been distilled. 



[71] 



Unbian Summer 




PURPLE haze lies on the 
distant hill 
And fallow fields an alien 
beauty wear; 
There seems mysterious promise in the 
air 
Which passing Summer lingers to fulfil. 
The silvery music of the tinkling rill 
Has died away as if in silent prayer; 
The winds have left the murmuring 
maples bare 
And all the woodland ways are strangely 
still. 



[72] 



December waits, with winding-sheets of 
snow, 
And that fair field, a-thrill to Autumn's 
kiss, 
A sleeper in an unmarked grave 
shall be; 
They say love hath its seasons; even so 
The Winter in my heart must be like 
this. 
Because through Summer I have 
walked with thee. 



[73] 




Ctowneb 

HEAR no coronation 
hymns ascend 
Where loyal peoples marble 
arches raise; 
Within no palace halls I pass my 
days, 
Before my throne no lords and ladies 

bend. 
No trumpet-tongued salutes my paths 
attend 
Nor cries of silver bugles sound my 

praise ; 
For me no fires of splendid triumph 
blaze — 
I have no mighty kingdom to defend. 



[74] 



Yet I am royal, for thy lips have said : 
" My queen, I love thee even more 
than life, 
And my believing heart to thee I 
bring." 
So hast thou placed a crown upon my 
head 
And brought me purple with the name 
of wife, 
Because thou art my lover and my 
king. 



[75] 




^be Xast Zimc 

OMEDAY the slanting sun- 
beams on the floor 
To one of us will give no 
kindly light, 
For all the world will change to 
darkest night 
The hour the Reaper pauses at our door ; 
Someday a heart that hungers, stabbed 
and sore, 
Will strive to bear its bitter cross 

aright ; 
With hands that falter, and with 
dimming sight 
The one will seek the other evermore. , 



[76] 



So let each word be tender, and the 
touch 
So gentle, grow each day more gentle 
still, 
For Love's dear day will vanish all 
too fast; 
And, at the end, since we have loved so 
much, 
A lingering peace the sore heart may 
distil— 
Remembering the kiss that was the 
last. 



[77] 




Httermatb 

HE reapers sing amid the 

ripened grain, 
While in the Autumn sun 
the sickles gleam, 
And far afield the silken poppies seem 
To spread their splendid scarlet all in 

vain; 
The harvest moon swings slowly up 
again 
In majesty resplendent and supreme. 
Then like the far, faint darkness of a 
dream, 
A purple twilight comes upon the plain. 



[78] 



Down in the stubble silvery cobwebs 
shine 
As if in answer to September's kiss 
A strange and ghostly beauty Earth 
should yield; 
And if Death should divide thy love from 
mine 
Upon my life would come a peace 
like this — 
The memory of the harvest on the 
field. 



[79] 




Hbsence 

HOU art so far away I 

cannot claim 
The incense of thy love 
before my shrine, 
Nor thrill in answer to a touch of 
thine, 
Nor hear thy voice make music of my 

name; 
My tenderness for thee I may not frame. 
Since words are weak to show this 

heart of mine, 
And, being woman, I must make no 
sign, 
Lest change should come and flood my 
soul with shame. 



[80] 



Sometime, someday, if God's great pur- 
pose is 
To give us Heaven while we linger 
here, 
Thy lost, beloved face mine eyes 
shall see; 
Yet if that deep desire be not His, 
Across the thousand leagues I love 
thee, Dear, 
And still before us waits Eternity, 



[8i] 




Mintet 

PON my casement wintry 

winds may blow 
From barren wastes and up- 
lands bleak and chill, 
While cold and bare, above the distant 
hill. 
The last light lies upon a crown of 

snow; 
Athwart the shivering pines the sleet 
may go 
The Storm King's dreaded vengeance 

to fulfil 
Where icy streams are waiting, deathly 
still. 
Their gentle music hushed in fear and 
woe. 



[82] 



And yet I have no Winter, since thy 
hand 
Has led me where eternal beauty lies, 
I have no night save lingering 
afternoon ; 
We walk together in the Summer land, 
For earth has someway changed to 
Paradise — 
Ah, Heart of Mine, with thee 't is 
always June! 



[83] 




©lb Xetters 

READ the yellowed pages 
o'er and o'er, 
By breath of long-dead roses 
faintly stirred; 
And as by magic every written word 
Flames sweet and strong with love and 

life once more. 
For here thy heart hath laid its tender 
store 
And here my waiting soul hath dimly 

heard 
The fluted song of some forgotten 
bird 
Since Memory's angel paused within my 
door 



[84] 



What though thy grass-grown grave 
shall come between? 
What though the reaches of Eternity 
Shall keep thy lips from mine 
through slow-shod years ? 
We learned together all that love may 
mean; 
There is no need of speech 'twixt thee 
and me; 
And yet — Sweetheart! Thy kiss — 
and then my tears ! 



[85] 




Beatb anb %ovc 

HE one is wracked with 
grief and bent with age, 
And on his world-scarred face 
there comes no gleam 
Nor human touch that haply may 
redeem 
The common ending of our pilgrimage; 
The other's childish laughter flouts the 
sage, 
Bids him forget his wisdom, makes 

him dream, 
And as by magic, with his touch 
supreme, 
He turns to gold the humblest heritage. 



[86] 



These two are friends, for on the self- 
same road 
They fare together, with hand clasping 
hand, 
Where asphodel and roses break the 
sod; 
'T is Love who shares with Death his 
heavy load, 
'T is Death who close by careless 
Love doth stand, 
And, side by side, they point the 
way to God. 



[87] 




Hfterwarb 

HEN Death's white poppies 

rest upon my eyes, 
As if my last rebellion He 
forgave, 

When through the transept and the 
vaulted nave 
The solemn measures of my requiem 

rise, 
Think not that in the dust before thee 
lies 
Thy heart of hearts, beyond thy 

strength to save 
From secret hiding in a distant grave. 
For thou hast still the love that never 
dies. 



[88] 



So kneel beside me, Dearest, with thy 
palm 
Laid on my face in that old tender- 
ness 
Too great for words, since there is 
no regret 
'Twixt thee and me, and when the 
chanted psalm 
Has softly changed to prayer and 
holiness, 
Think not, oh soul of mine, that I 
forget ! 



[89] 



OCT 4 1910 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



